


[C] To Break a Man

by OneofWebs



Series: Geralt Deserved This [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Canon Compliant, Chains, Coming Untouched, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Girls Kissing, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Riding, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs
Summary: Geralt thought he had it all. He had Yennefer on one arm, Triss on the other. They just didn't know about it. When they do find out, because some secrets can't be kept, they conspire together to give Geralteverythinghe deserves.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Triss Merigold, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Geralt Deserved This [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787443
Comments: 14
Kudos: 90





	[C] To Break a Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eternally_Damned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternally_Damned/gifts).



> done on prompt
> 
> I MEAN WHAT MORE IS THERE TO SAY. GERALT GETS PEGGED

Geralt could already see the scene playing out in his head. He had enough wine for all three of them and certainly enough stamina. Triss and Yennefer were beautiful, beautiful women. It’s why he couldn’t resist trying to keep them both for himself. As far as he knew, this invitation was just an acceptance of that. All three of them, wrapped up together in whatever would come next. His cock was starting to strain before he’d even knocked on the door, just at the  _ thought _ of what could happen in this room.

When no answer came, Geralt let himself in. Everything was set up just the way he imagined—a fine bed at the end of the room, a fire going, and candles lit around to set the mood. He had barely taken in the surroundings before Triss was approaching him, dressed in nothing but her underclothes. Yennefer came up behind him, leaning into his shoulder as Triss took the wine bottle out of his hand.

“I was afraid you weren’t going to show,” Yennefer crooned, caressing the back of her knuckles down Geralt’s cheek.

Geralt grinned at her but didn’t speak. He barely had time to watch Triss walk off, her smalls hardly large enough to keep her covered, before Yennefer was stepping out in front of him so he could see her, too. She was wearing a tight, black corset that cupped her tits just right, holding them up on display. Everything she wore was black, always black, and it stuck out against her pale skin so beautifully. Showed off her power, the status she’d had over the years. It was impossible not to look at Yennefer and remain calm.

Triss poured the wine while Yennefer pulled Geralt into the room. With one wave of her finger, Geralt started to disrobe. He let his swords clatter to the floor behind him, followed by his belts and his armor. She helped him peel out of his clothes, until he was in nothing but his smalls. Then, she pushed him back towards the bed. Geralt let her push him. He stumbled back, hit the edge of the bed, and fell back. Triss fell in beside him, ghosting her nails up Geralt’s chest, over his scars and up to his neck.

Geralt looked at her. She was beautiful, tantalizingly so. Her bright red hair was still tied up in a loose bun, but Geralt wanted to see it down, cascaded over her shoulders and her breasts. Before he could reach up to tug her hair down, Triss took his hand, first. She pressed it down into the bed, grinning at him, and reached under the pillows. Geralt heard the clinking of metal, but he didn’t  _ care _ . Triss was looking at him with those eyes, and Yennefer was crawling onto the bed. Her tits were threatening to spill right out of her corset.

Geralt thought he might help her out. Reach up and grab her corset, pull at it just enough that her tits did spill forward. She had such  _ nice _ tits; they fit perfectly in Geralt’s hand and had beautifully sensitive nipples. Just as with Triss, Yennefer had his hand before he could move to enact his quick fantasies. There was more rattling of metal; Geralt hadn’t thought anything of it, before. He’d been too caught up in how wonderful this was, how much more wonderful it wasn’t going to  _ be _ .

Then, he found himself cuffed to the bed with his arms spread out. He couldn’t even sit up, let alone move. If that’s how they wanted this, then Geralt was happy to oblige. His cock was already straining at the idea of watching them take turns on top of him. He’d let them bounce over his cock all night if that’s what they wanted; he would lay here and enjoy  _ every _ second of it.

Only, once he was chained down to the bed, both Triss and Yennefer pulled away. They slid right off the sheets and walked over to where Triss had already poured them each a glass of wine. For a moment, they looked more wrapped up in  _ each other _ than they ever were in Geralt. Just moments before, they were both looking at him like nothing more than a thick piece of cock to take their pleasure from, and that had been hotter than Geralt could imagine. Now, sipping from golden goblets, they were looking at each other.

“Don’t I get any?” Geralt asked, trying to laugh off a sudden growing nervousness.

“Oh, you’ll get exactly what you deserve,” Yennefer assured with a wink. She sipped at her wine, glancing over to Triss who was struggling not to giggle.

“What are you talking about?”

“Patience,” Triss insisted. She took a sip of wine before setting the glass down. “Everything you deserve,” she parroted.

Triss turned her attention to Yennefer, plucking the glass of wine right out of her hand. They both spared Geralt a single glance before meeting together in a kiss. Geralt dropped his head into the bed with a sudden bout of disappointment, resignation—whatever it was he’d been invited to had not been for his enjoyment. Even with his head down, he could  _ hear _ the way they kissed.

Yennefer pressed forward, her lips parting and her hands resting on Triss’ hips. Triss threaded her fingers through Yennefer’s hair tugging her even closer until Triss’ back had arched and their chests pressed together. Triss moaned into their kiss, met Yennefer’s tongue with her own in the inches left between them. Yennefer slipped her hands along Triss’ sides, up and over her tits where she stopped at the straps of her brassiere. She slipped them down over Triss’ shoulders, never once breaking their kiss.

They worked through the laces and the ties until Triss’ brassiere was falling to the floor. Only then did they pull apart; Yennefer used the new space to cup Triss’ tits, rubbing her thumbs into Triss’ nipples until she gasped and arched forward.

“We were so angry when we first met,” Yennefer hummed. “But really, I can’t thank you enough, Geralt. To think you would find me a new best friend.” She winked, just before Geralt dropped his head back down to the bed in frustration.

Part of him wanted to see, but part of him was too busy wallowing in his own idiocy. If he’d  _ hidden _ it better, none of this would be happening. He still had yet to decide if what was happening was good. Seeing Yennefer with her hands full of Triss’ tits and their lips moving together went straight to Geralt’s cock; he was desperately hard, straining against the confines of his smalls. On the other hand, he knew he’d messed up about as royally as possible. If he was going to get out of this, he wasn’t doing it unscathed.

“We shouldn’t be too cruel to him,” Triss commented. “There has been something good to come from this.”

Triss demonstrated by sliding her own fingers down the length of Yennefer’s stomach, sending chills straight up her spine. Yennefer gasped as Triss pressed her fingers into the mound of her pelvis, skin to skin. She inched further down until just the tip of her finger ghosted over Yennefer’s clit. Yennefer hummed through her gritted teeth, leaning into Triss to press their lips together, again. She rolled her hips into Triss’ touch, combing her fingers back through her hair until it fell loose of its ties.

“Just cruel enough,” Yennefer decided.

They’d planned for this. Geralt could tell just by the way they were looking at each other. The way they were suddenly both looking at him. He knew the exact second that Triss’ fingers hooked inside of Yennefer’s cunt from the way that Yennefer’s face twisted up, her lips parted in a silent cry. She reached back to steady herself on the table, or so it appeared. A moment later, Triss was pulling back her fingers and making quite the show of slipping them into her mouth, her tongue between them.

Yennefer pulled something off the table; Geralt knew his fate the second he saw it. He  _ believed _ he knew his fate. Yennefer was holding something clearly phallic in shape, connected together with straps. He was going to have to lay here, chained down so he couldn’t so much as jerk himself off to the show, while he watched as they took turns  _ fucking _ each other with that thing. The show was already beginning, in sweet touches and soft whispers.

Triss pulled Yennefer’s underwear down, down, until she was on her knees and Yennefer was standing there in nothing but her corset. She leaned forward, mouthing over the mound of Yennefer’s pelvis. She dragged her lips over it, her tongue, down between Yennefer’s thighs. Yennefer leaned back into the table, spreading them just wide enough that Triss could work her fingers along her swollen lips, pulling up the hood of her clit to suckle it. Yennefer gasped in response, digging her nails into the table.

“Unchain me,” Geralt tried to argue. “If I apologize—”

“It’s too late for that,” Yennefer gasped out. “You just lay there like a good boy, alright?”

Geralt groaned, pressing his head into the mattress and trying to think of  _ anything _ but what was going on. His cock had something different in mind. He was painfully hard and leaking into the fabric of his smalls. It was embarrassing, how hard he was with only his thoughts. He couldn’t see everything they were doing, even as he tried to strain to watch—to at least get something out of this unfortunate situation. He couldn’t see the way Triss worked her tongue through Yennefer’s folds, but he could  _ hear _ it.

Yennefer gasped out through every swipe of Triss’ tongue, every press of her fingers. Her thighs were trembling. Triss spread Yennefer’s folds open, working her fingers back inside to gather up slick. Yennefer was all but dripping, only standing because she was leaning into the table. Her thighs spread. Trembling. Triss licked through her slit, nipping at her labia and the hood of her clit until Yennefer was  _ ready _ . Only then did Triss pull back and take the phallus from her.

Geralt watched as Triss stroked the sleek, wooden cock until it was wet with Yennefer’s slick. That was when he saw the double head; one side was shorter, slightly hooked. That was the side Triss pressed into Yennefer. Yennefer gasped, groaned into the back of her hand until it was firmly in place. Only then did Triss secure it with laces around Yennefer’s thighs and hips. Then, Triss pulled back and stood up. She pulled off the remainder of her underclothes before turning her attention to Yennefer’s corset.

Instead of pulling it off entirely, Triss loosened it just enough to tug it beneath the swell of Yennefer’s tits, only to tighten it again. Triss took her sweet time standing up straight, running her hands over Yennefer’s newly exposed tits first. Then her mouth, trailing tongue over the pert peaks of her nipples. Once Triss straightened up, they met together in a searing kiss, sucking in deep breaths and mixing tongues until saliva dripped down their chins.

Geralt thought he might see Yennefer push Triss down to the bed, right beside him, and give her much the same treatment. He could already picture it—Yennefer’s tongue working through the sweet slick of Triss’ cunt. Lapping at her until she was more saliva than slick. Yennefer would pull back to play with Triss’ clit while she rubbed the wooden head of that cock through her folds until she was trembling. Only then would Yennefer press into her, until they were so close and wrapped up in each other that their tits brushed with every thrust and they could kiss.

Instead, they walked over to the bed together. Triss crawled onto the bed near the head of it, while Yennefer moved to the end. She pulled herself up, kneeling there for long enough that Geralt could  _ see  _ her in her full glory. Her beautiful hair cascaded down over her shoulders, her straining tits. The corset kept them up, let them bounce with every move she made. He looked down the soft skin of her stomach, down to where she was sporting a fake cock with enough confidence that it might as well have been  _ real _ .

She ran her hands up Geralt’s thighs, over his hips, until she came to the hem of his smalls. She gave him a look—a dangerously sly look that said whatever came next was going to be fun for  _ her _ —and pulled the last remaining piece of clothing he had down. She threw it over the side of the bed and leaned forward, letting her tits hang down for Geralt to see while she massaged his thighs. His inner thighs. Working them apart until she could fit between them.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asked, just the slightest hint of panic in the deep gruff of his voice.

“Nothing you don’t deserve,” Yennefer hummed. “I’m tired of listening to him talk,” she said, changing her attention back to Triss.

Geralt looked to Triss, too, who smiled down at him. She was more than  _ happy _ to oblige. Triss threw her leg over Geralt, facing Yennefer and settling herself right over his face. He had the  _ perfect _ view of her dripping cunt, her swollen lips. He certainly wasn’t going to complain about this part. When Triss lowered herself down, Geralt welcomed it. He dropped his jaw and licked through her folds, feeling her thighs tremble around him. He mouthed at her, lapping at her slick and working over her hole.

With Geralt successfully silenced and distracted, Yennefer got to work. She spread his thighs open, propped him up so his knees were bent around her. He didn’t even fight it, too lost in the taste of Triss on his tongue. His hips bucked, and his cock went entirely ignored, straining against his hip. Yennefer almost felt sorry for him, but really, he deserved it. He deserved every second of it; she knew, once he got into it, he’d  _ enjoy _ having a fake cock inside of him. It was only fair to give him a taste of his own medicine, of course.

She took a vial of oil off the nightstand, then set to work. She dribbled it over her fingers, rubbing them together to at least make it warm. Geralt was always polite enough to make things  _ warm _ . Once it was, Yennefer moved forward, keeping Geralt’s thighs spread with her own. She pressed her fingers right against his perineum—the groan he let out turned straight into Triss’ own rumbling pleasure. She rolled her hips down into Geralt’s mouth, bracing herself on his chest. Geralt pulled at the chains, but he wasn’t going  _ anywhere _ .

Yennefer trailed her fingers down, down, until she rubbed them over the tight rim of his hole. She could feel Geralt clench down, a sudden shock taking him. But he couldn’t complain—he couldn’t protest with his mouth so wonderfully occupied. Triss’ face had gone nearly as red as her hair, her lips wet as she licked them, and eyes closed tight with pleasure. Geralt was good for one thing, at least. Good with his tongue.

At the first breach of her finger, Geralt went tense, tightened, but he relaxed a moment later. Yennefer just stroked his walls, working the one finger deeper,  _ relaxing _ him. Geralt opened up around her, the tension draining out of him. His muscles loosened; his hips rolled against her. He stopped tugging on the chains. It all made Yennefer smirk, just slightly. She was certainly happy to see Geralt working into his punishment, rocking down on her finger.

He tensed up again at the feeling of a second finger, more oil, but it melted away even faster. He was too concerned with Triss, grinding her cunt into his lips and dripping slick down his chin, to focus on Yennefer. Yennefer, who had two fingers pressed up inside him. He couldn’t even deny how good it felt, the way she just massaged at his walls. The oil spread deeper, worked him open as her fingers scissored apart. His cock was certainly interested, twitching with Geralt’s new arousal. He dripped with precum.

Yennefer ignored his cock, entirely. Instead, she dripped more oil down his taint and rubbed it into him, working a third finger into him. She didn’t want to  _ hurt _ him—that would have taken all the fun out of it. She wanted him to be dripping with his own arousal, lost in how good it felt to be taken, split open on the thick of a cock until his thighs were trembling and he was coming. Geralt seemed the type of man who’d be brought to his knees in shame, knowing he’d gotten off with a wooden cock in his ass and nothing more. Yennefer hoped to be the one to introduce him.

Geralt spread open beautifully on three fingers, his hole turning such a pretty shade of red with the incessant stimulation. And he was  _ wet, _ dripping with the oil. Really, he should have known something about the night wouldn’t go entirely to plan when his message came with a very strict order to  _ bathe _ himself. And he’d done so, beautifully. Yennefer worked her fingers into him as deep as they could go, crooking them just right until Geralt’s hips suddenly bucked up and his whole body jolted.

“Oh—” Triss cried out. “Oh, do that again, Yenn. He—he  _ likes _ that.”

Yennefer grinned, crooking her fingers again and tugging them back. Geralt  _ groaned _ , loud enough she could hear it through the muffling of Triss’ cunt. Geralt was shaking, digging his toes into the sheets to try and ground himself. He had his hands wrapped around the chains, tugging. Yennefer didn’t give him even a moment’s rest. Now that she’d found that spot, she planned on abusing it. She rubbed the pads of her fingers into it, stretched Geralt wider.

Geralt groaned, but he couldn’t do anything more than try to keep himself under control. His body was betraying him with each pleasurable brush of Yennefer’s fingers inside of him. Triss was grinding into his mouth, rubbing her swollen cunt over his face and taking whatever pleasure she could from his tongue and his lips. Her thighs were trembling, her hips bucking on their own. She’d dug her nails into Geralt’s chest, but that wasn’t a bother. He was too wrapped up in this heat that rushed through him every time Yennefer worked her fingers  _ just  _ right.

Then, her fingers were gone. Geralt went lax against the bed, getting a second to  _ breathe _ as Triss shifted on top of him. She leaned forward just enough to meet Yennefer in a heavy kiss, then they parted. Each went back to their own purpose. Triss ground down into Geralt’s mouth while Yennefer worked oil over the wooden head of her cock. It was still wet with her own slick, but the oil would ensure a smooth entrance. The point wasn’t pain, not unless Geralt came back to beg for it. Yennefer wouldn’t mind knocking him down a few steps.

She made sure his thighs were nice and open; Geralt’s cock twitched in response, with the first press of the wooden cockhead against his hole. Yennefer gave him just a second to adjust before she started pushing forward. Geralt’s groan came right from his gut, his back arching. His hole stretched open to accept every new inch of the wooden cock. It pressed deep, deeper until Yennefer’s hips were flush against his pelvis. He’d never felt so  _ full.  _ So open. Yennefer didn’t even give him time to get used to it before she ground the cock against all of his deepest parts.

His hips bucked down against his will, grinding down and meeting every subtle roll of Yennefer’s hips. It pressed the shorter head of the cock deeper into her cunt and made her tremble, but she grounded herself with a tight hold on Geralt’s thighs. She pulled back and thrusted into him, watching each inch of the cock that reappeared and disappeared back inside. Geralt stretched to accommodate it, hole red and split around the dark wood. Every inch of it lit new nerves alight with  _ pleasure _ , and Geralt didn’t know what to do with himself.

He tried to busy himself, licking through Triss’ cunt. Trying to get her off. But nothing he did could distract him enough from the incessant press of that cock inside of him. It had no give—it kept him open, spread him wide as he took, again and again, every inch of it. Yennefer worked her hips quickly, her tits bouncing each time their skin slapped together. The strength behind her thrusts jolted Geralt’s entire body, and the pleasure rocked forward through him, through Triss. She could barely keep herself up right.

Triss was about to come; Yennefer could see it on her face. She was desperately grinding down on Geralt’s tongue. He was as deep inside her as he could be, lapping at her insides and making her tremble. It was all he could manage to do with Yennefer’s thrusts taking his concentration and thoughts from him, each one better than the last. She split him open as deeply as she could, and each slap of her hips had the other head of the cock working its way through her, fucking deep inside of her.

Her hips began to stutter. The more her pleasure grew, the more rhythm she lost. Yennefer held fast against Geralt’s hips and worked  _ hard _ , fucking the wooden cock into as him as deep as it would go, dragging the head of it over his prostate with each thrust. Geralt was trembling, shaking with every press of that wooden cock, but Yennefer came first.

She felt her orgasm rush through her in wave after wave after wave, her entire body jolting with it. She clenched down around the head of the fake cock inside of her, her hips stuttering to a final stop. When Yennefer finally came to, brushing her hair back. Triss had the exact same look on her face—a blissful exhaustion with the last few jolts of her hips. She’d come, too, right over Geralt’s tongue. She’d gushed over his face and left him in a mess, but it was what he deserved.

Triss and Yennefer looked at each other, and then it was time to shift. Yennefer pulled out of Geralt while Triss gathered enough strength to move. She didn’t even bother to wipe off Geralt’s face. He could deal with the mess himself. He was absolutely breathless, speechless. He had nothing to say as they moved; he’d gone pliant with his desperate need for an orgasm, but neither of them looked any closer to touching his cock than they’d been before.

Triss undid the laces of the fake cock and eased it out of Yennefer. It was wet, messed with her slick. Triss had half a mind to work her mouth over it, but instead, she just turned it over. Yennefer helped her work it inside, securing it with the laces again. Now, Triss was equipped with it, the hooked head of the cock snugly pressed inside of her cunt. She trembled from the stimulation of it—almost too much, but Triss wasn’t about to miss this for the world.

It took both of them, but they flipped Geralt onto his front, up on his knees so his arms were wrenched across one another and his face was pressed into the mattress. It was painfully uncomfortable, but he didn’t dare say anything. He knew they wouldn’t care. Frankly, he didn’t either. He’d had a taste, and his body wanted more.

When Triss pressed against his stretched and swollen hole, Geralt’s body split right open again to accept her. Triss held onto his hips, digging her nails into his skin to bruise and mark him while she started to fuck forward. She used her grip on Geralt to pull him back to meet every thrust. She ground into him, each time their hips slapped together.

Now that he wasn’t preoccupied, they could  _ hear  _ Geralt’s grunts and moans. He couldn’t deny how much every thrust of that fake cock inside of him had every nerve on fire with pleasure. His cock was aching between his thighs, but no matter how he tugged at the chains, he couldn’t touch himself. Neither Yennefer nor Triss would touch his cock, either. Yennefer did take pity on him, though; he could tell from the sudden dribble of oil between his cheeks.

Yennefer massaged him, spreading her fingers around his hole, where the fake cock sunk inside of him. It eased the stretch of it, helped Geralt relax into the brutal pace Triss had set for them. She was pounding into him, forcing the fake cock deeper and deeper into him with every thrust. Somehow, it felt deeper than before. Reaching places Geralt didn’t even know  _ existed _ , let alone that could make him feel quite as good as he did. His whole body was alight with a fire, a tension that would threaten an orgasm without his cock having been touched.

Geralt’s jaw dropped open in a sudden gasp. Yennefer pressed her finger right in, alongside the wooden cock. The sudden stretch was unbelievable; his hips jerked back against it,  _ yearning  _ for more. He wasn’t disappointed, not when Yennefer pressed a second finger right inside. She grinned, devilishly, watching the way he spread open for them.

“Look at him,” Yennefer crooned. “We may just have to keep him like this. Such  _ fun _ .”

Geralt grunted. “You’re—” but his words were taken right out of him when Triss fucked forward particularly hard, pounding the wooden cockhead right over his prostate.

Geralt groaned, his cock giving a pathetic spurt. He was close. He was  _ pathetically _ close to an orgasm, all from the stretch of arse. He would blame it on the wine, but he hadn’t actually had a drop. It was just the pure pleasure coursing through his body. Each time that cock breached him, he came closer and closer to an impending orgasm. It was only intensified when he could  _ hear _ Triss and Yennefer kissing over him. Yennefer was thrusting her fingers into him, Triss working the cock in and out of his hole—Geralt’s body was shaking,  _ ready  _ to come entirely untouched.

When Triss’ hips started to stutter, Geralt knew she was close. Yennefer did, too. Her second orgasm edging up. Yennefer helped her along, breaking off their kiss to trail her lips down Triss’ neck, over her collarbone and down to her tits. Yennefer cupped one, raising up to her lips so she could suck around Triss’ pert little nipple. She played with the little nub, tonguing at it until Triss’ breath caught in her throat. She made sure to pay proper attention to each nipple, until they were both a rosy red and dripping with saliva.

Triss gripped into Geralt’s hips hard when she came, spasming around the wooden cockhead inside of her and stuttering her thrusts until she was finished. If not for the ties, the wooden cock would have slipped right out of her. She was dripping in her own slick, exhausted with all of the effort. She pulled out the second her orgasm had finished, leaving Geralt groaning and pitching forward. He  _ still  _ hadn’t come, and he was beginning to think they weren’t going to let him.

His cock was an angry red. There was a mess on the bed where he’d been dripping precum, spurting with it each time his orgasm edged closer. If he could just get a hand down between his thighs, he could jerk himself off and be on his way. That wasn’t the plan. There were hands on his hips and his thighs, again, rolling him onto his back again.

He half expected them to trade the wooden phallus again; Yennefer would crawl back between his thighs and fuck him until he finally came all over himself, but that wasn’t what happened. Yennefer untied the laces of the cock and let it slip right out of Triss. Then, it clattered to the floor. They were done with it. Done with Geralt. Yennefer laid down on the bed beside him, her head resting on his sore and tired arms, and spread her thighs open for Triss.

“You can’t be serious—” Geralt tried to protest, but Yennefer’s sudden moan cut him right off.

Triss curled her hair behind her ear and dipped down, lapping through Yennefer’s folds. Yennefer reached down, threading her fingers through Triss’ hair to keep her in place, pressed right up against her cunt where she could suck and lick to her heart’s content. Yennefer’s thighs trembled and squeezed together; her own orgasm was close, again, still riding the high from her first one.

“Maybe you didn’t notice,” Yennefer worked out, between gasps. “This isn’t  _ about _ you. You had your fun. It’s  _ our _ turn.”

Geralt grunted, straining so he could at least  _ watch _ as Triss fucked her tongue into Yennefer. Yennefer rolled her hips, moaning out a little louder than Geralt had  _ ever  _ heard her. She was putting on a show, making Geralt feel that burning jealously. Every time her hips bucked; her tits bounced with the jolt of her body. She was stunning, taking her pleasure right from Triss’ tongue.

Geralt couldn’t help himself. Watching them was a treat all its own. His cock agreed, twitching as his orgasm inched closer on their noises alone. It sounded so wet, and Yennefer’s voice was an unbridled song of pleasure. It didn’t take her long to reach a second orgasm, Triss’ tongue inside of her. She buried her hands in Triss’ hair, back arching and hips bucking down against her mouth, crying out. Yennefer always came so beautifully.

Just the sight of it had Geralt coming. His entire body shook with his orgasm, a strange pleasure taking over him like he’d never felt before. It was such a dull, burning orgasm, but the pleasure was all the same. Like he was  _ still _ coming, even after his cock had given up and gone limp against his hip.

“My, my,” Triss hummed when she pulled back, curling her hair behind her ear, again. “That was rather unexpected, don’t you think?” She looked at Yennefer, wiping her mouth.

“Not unwarranted, though,” Yennefer agreed. She pushed herself up and leaned over Geralt, caressing the side of his face. She helpfully wiped at his lips, his chin, cleaning him from Triss’ old mess. Yennefer licked it right off her fingers before leaning down close enough that she might have even  _ kissed _ Geralt. Instead, she just smirked.

“Might I hear an apology?” She wondered, a feigned sympathy on her lips.

“You have it,” Geralt grunted out. “The both of you—I  _ am _ sorry.”

Yennefer hummed, patting Geralt’s cheek. “Such a good boy, you are.”

She rolled off the bed, and Triss followed. Geralt started to struggle again, pulling at the bonds like he was somehow strong enough to fight against the metal cuffs and chains. They were beginning to get dressed, to situate themselves back in their underclothes and pull on their outfits. Not a single glance was spared back towards Geralt, regardless of the noise he was making. Once they were both dressed, a cup of wine for the road, Geralt made more of a fuss—he was still  _ naked _ , covered in his own spend.

“You can’t leave me here like this!” he argued.

“Oh, we can,” Yennefer retorted. “It’s nothing short of what you deserve. Someone will be by in the morning to let you go,” she winked.

“The  _ morning _ !?” Geralt shouted. “What time is it!?”

“Oh, I’d say mid-afternoon,” Triss added, helpfully. “It won’t be so bad. You can start planning how you’ll grovel to make this up to us. Not that it’s possible.” She grinned.

Geralt sighed, slumping down into the bed as defeated as any man could be. He should have known an apology wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be; he’d lost them both, and his punishment for it was being chained down to a bed, naked with spend drying into his skin until  _ someone  _ came by in the morning. To see him like this. The embarrassment was already welling up—who was going to come unchain him? Questions that wouldn’t be answered.

“See you around,” Yennefer waved with just her fingers, a little twinkle in her eye. She left first.

“Hopefully not,” Triss added helpfully, stepping out after her. Triss closed the door behind her, leaving Geralt entirely alone.

He was just going to have to wait. No amount of struggling and grunting or groaning was getting him out of these chains. If only there had been some way to prevent this from ever happening—but, like Yennefer had said. Too little, too late. Geralt was just going to have to wait and suffer the consequences as they came. This was the punishment that kept on giving.

**Author's Note:**

> Just pretend that Triss and Yennefer go off to get married after this. It's what they deserve.  
>   
> 𓆏 Froge Licks 𓆏  
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> 


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